"Maybe that is all any bravery is, a stronger fear of not being brave." ~ Audre Lorde

Chapter Twenty-seven: Imagine Violet Skies

They found that the hardest part of getting on their airplane had nothing to do with Draco not being able to find the right place, or getting past security.

The hardest part became getting to the airport.

The roads were not exactly pedestrian friendly; the cars were moving too fast and there was really not enough space to walk. Loki quivered in her full body bind after a close brush with a car left her squirming.

Once inside however, the path became clear.

It must have been an off day for travel since the airport did not seem all that busy. With Hermione's instructions ringing in his head, Draco looked for all the right signs - follow the crowd, she had said. If you see a lot of people waiting in line to go to another part of the airport, it is probably the security check. He found it - a line of people going through tall, gray doorways, stripping off their shoes and coats and grabbing scuffed plastic trays. Draco raised his eyebrows.

How did taking off one's shoes help with security?

They need to make sure you aren't trying to smuggle anything in them.

The lack of people worked both in his favor and against him - if there had been a lot of people, he could have probably remained visible and slipped past everything with the help of a Confundus Charm, but since there hadn't, he'd had to use a Disillusionment charm and try to sneak around everything.

He found an empty lane and walked them through the gate, sidestepping the guard, who looked confusedly at the lights appearing at the top of the doorway.

When he was a safe distance away, next to the wall, he stopped to regain some composure.

There's no telling what could happen if we got caught at security, especially doing magic.

Draco understood how much trouble they'd be in if they were to get caught - not only would they risk the exposure of the magical world, but they'd go from muggle jail to a wizard court. And he would be thrown in Azkaban, with a shitload of angry ex Death Eaters waiting to tear him to pieces.

"I'm telling you - ghosts pass through here all the time!" the guard was saying to his coworker, who rolled his eyes and continued stacking trays.

Ron set his copy of The Daily Prophet on the table. The moving picture on the front was all he had to look at to know the contents of the article.

THE SEARCH CONTINUES

The search for Hermione Jean Granger, muggleborn war hero, reaches top priority once again as the Ministry of Magic uncovers more information about her kidnapping. Intelligence has led search teams east, where Hermione Granger was said to be spotted in the Polish town of Konin by several streetwalkers yesterday evening...

Great. The Prophet had resorted to printing lies. And here he had thought that the Ministry was making progress.

There was a knock at the door.

The only person who would knock on his door this early was Harry or Nora. And if it was Nora, it was likely to be very important.

Ron got up and opened the door, not even glancing at who walked in before he turned around and went to sit back at his small table.

"Wow, Ronald. You are worse off than everyone says."

He whipped around to face the familiar voice.

Luna Lovegood hung her bag and cloak on one of the coat hooks next to the door. "It's funny how people just stop talking to each other once they have left school. For example, I haven't spoken to Ginny since the death of the Dark Lord. Can you imagine that?" She tuned to face him.

Ron shook his head, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that his place was a mess and he needed a shower. He hadn't expected to have any visitors, and he didn't have to work today.

"... I thought I'd bring you something to cheer you up..."

Ron nodded, letting her hand him a small package.

They stood in silence for a few seconds; Luna had obviously been intending to stay for a bit, considering that she had hung her cloak and bag up, but Ron did not look to be in the mood to have visitors.

"I... I guess I'll be going then," she said, masking a hurt expression as she collected her things.

Why am I shutting everyone out?

"Wait," he mumbled, setting the package on the table. "You don't have to leave."

He had been shutting people out - he'd been shutting out his family, Harry, and the Order, all of whom wanted to help.

Or do they? Maybe they just want me to cooperate. "Calm down, Ron." "It's okay, Ron." Like I'm a child. Like I can't control my anger or something.

Like my feelings don't even matter.

He knew this was a stupid thing to think, but he knew that it was at least partly true. He hated the way everyone looked carefully at him whenever they mentioned the "relationship" between Hermione and Malfoy; he hated the lonely nights, spent without Harry and without his family, because Harry was working and his family was now too afraid to try to console him; he hated the way everyone spoke to him as if he was this thing, this animal who could only feel anger towards them.

Now, that wasn't to say that he wasn't angry with them, nor that he wouldn't feed Draco's smug mug to a blast-ended skrewt any day. But he did have a head on his shoulders. He wasn't all point-shoot-aim like they thought he was.

"I do need a proper bath though," he continued.

"It's okay," Luna said brightly, hanging her cloak back up. "I can wait. Maybe clean up a bit."

Ron nodded, noting that Luna instantly made the room a lot brighter.

There was something about airports that made Hermione feel distinctly muggleborn.

Perhaps it was the fact that she was surrounded by muggles going about their daily lives, not paying each other any sort of attention. Perhaps it was the fact that airports represented some very core differences between muggles and wizards.

Perhaps it was the grey carpet, the metal and plastic chairs, or the moving walkways. The overlaying of dull, dusty colors on top of each other, occasionally brightened by the richly colored logo of some airline people only flew for convenience.

She could not speak for this airport, but they tended to all be the same.

"Muggles are a drab lot, aren't they?" Draco whispered to her, looking around.

Hermione nodded. If muggles and wizards could coexist, they had quite a bit they could learn from each other.

Staying dissillusioned, they waited until all the other passengers had boarded before they sidestepped the flight attendant at the gate and walked down the ramp.

"Finite Incantatem. Finally, we're here," he said, leading Hermione onto the plane.

He chose two seats in a completely empty row and looked around. If it was this easy to get onto a muggle plane, how was it that everyone else payed for their tickets like they were supposed to?

A flight attendant was coming towards them determinedly. He took his wand out discreetly.

Instead of saying something to him, she buckled his and Hermione's seatbelts and kept going.

Hermione smiled. "We're getting lucky, and you know it. She didn't even say anything about Loki."

Draco looked down at Hermione's arms. Loki was still disillusioned and in a full body bind. He cursed and released the body bind, realizing that the poor cat had been like that for almost two hours. She stretched her aching muscles and hopped onto the empty seat next to them, her fur matching the look of the seat, so she only appeared as a small indentation in the blue fabric.

"Stay there, Loki, otherwise we won't be able to find you... why is this thing so loud?" he asked, practically shouting.

Hermione grimaced and pushed her sunglasses up on her nose. "It's not even that loud yet. Just wait until we take off."

Draco shook his head. That did not sound promising.

Draco stared out of the oval, plastic lined window at the mass of water under them, wondering how any muggle could get used to this. After a close call with the airline staff and rubbing a disillusioned Loki against an unsuspecting muggle, not to mention the constant popping his ears were doing, Draco was thoroughly sick of the giant muggle contraptions.

And what was worse?

The fact that when they would finally land in Chicago, they'd have a three hour wait before they were on their way to Alaska.

The german couple in front of them shushed their three year old son for what seemed like the millionth time.

"I can't take much more of this," Draco whispered to Hermione. Besides being incredibly tired, the noise was giving him a massive headache. He looked over to discover her slumped in her seat.

How could she sleep through this racket? Draco waited until nearly everyone had exited the plane before he woke Hermione. She mumbled something and stood up, barely stopping before hitting the plastic buttons above her head.

"This is the last time I will ever do this. I can't believe how long that stupid flight was," Draco grumbled, shouldering the bag and rubbing his tired eyes. "A portkey would have had us there in two seconds."

"You're exaggerating."

"Well, it would not have us crammed into a seat for Merlin knows how long. And I'd have been shot of that noisy kid sitting in front of us." He looked around for the giant screens. "We've been traveling for nearly a full day, and I want some sleep."

"Yeah, well, we'll get some sleep once we are in Alaska."

Their muggle money was no good here, since Hermione did not want to put Draco through the process of changing their euros for American dollars, so in order to get food they would have to try something else. Draco looked critically at the vending machines in the corner. He was too tired to be dealing with muggle contraptions.

After discreetly stealing some junk food, he took Hermione into a telephone kiosk and handed her a stolen bag.

"I'm not even going to ask," she said, opening a crinkling bag of snacks.

"You've learned," he said, opening his own bag. He kicked off his shoes and pulled Hermione down next to him. He hoped that they would not be bothered in here; he really wanted to get some real sleep. He charmed the now empty snack bag to whistle in two hours.

Hermione stroked Loki absently, letting the cat head-butt her leg.

"Okay, I must ask. So why are you so good at stealing and squatting?"

Draco shrugged, putting his feet up on the small counter next to the phone book. "I occasionally nick things from muggles. They need to improve their security methods; they make it too easy."

"Yes, okay, but from a vending machine? How did you go about doing that?"

"Stop it with the questions, Granger. Wingardium leviosa works just fine when no one is looking."

She shrugged, getting comfortable. "I thought Malfoys were supposed to be above things like thievery."

A year ago, if she had said something like that he probably would have retorted with some defensive comment to defend his family name. Now, however, not only did he not care as much, but he was not afraid to say what he wanted about his family. "Malfoys find a way to be thieves without it being traditional thievery. We steal loads of things, from money to years of people's lives." He pulled her closer to him. "And then we slap a different label on it. It's more complicated than that, but that's basically what happens."

"But you aren't that person anymore."

He shook his head and ran his free hand through his hair. "I'm still that person. I'll always be that person."

It was the type of talk his parents liked to lecture him with - all this talk about being a respectable person and knowing who he is. Talk about changing things about himself that he knew how to change... and just didn't. They had called him stubborn and insolent, as if he didn't want to change, didn't want to make them happy with him.

It was just... too hard to change. It took too much inner strength that he didn't have.

Many times they compared him with Harry Potter, saying that he needed to be doing what Potter was doing. Why aren't you Seeker for Slytherin like Potter is for his house? Why don't you score better than Potter in Transfiguration? Why is Potter always getting recognized for things that you aren't?

In reality, the one thing he actually admired about Potter, the one thing that he wishes he'd had... was Potter's resilience.

Everyone knew the story now - Potter was sent, as a baby, to live with his horrid muggle aunt and uncle and their pudgy son. And somehow, through that, he'd still managed to come out a normal person - no cruelty, no bitterness.

Draco had succumbed to his household; he became exactly what his father had wanted him to become – a less emotional version of him.

And he had woken up, looked around, and realized that he'd been asleep for his whole life. Once again, change was hard. He'd definitely not chosen the right battle to fight, in hindsight.

But if he'd had Potter resilience... he could have gotten through all of that. Snape's lessons on masking emotion would not have been needed, because he would not have been afraid of his emotions. He would not have needed to resort to cruelty in order to make himself feel better, just like his father did.

"Your dad was just a cruel man, Draco."

Ugh. He really needed to work on his emotional walls again. "Let's not dwell on him - I want to sleep without nightmares before the next air-plane ride."

Hermione nodded, noting the quick change of subject and choosing not to fight it. Not everything could be talked out, as she had come to understand. Some things are better left alone.

Alaska was a beautiful place; from the small airplane window, Draco could see mountains stretching in every direction as white and grey points dotted with dark green and black; the sky was huge and low, as if the plane could touch it if it went any higher. Hermione would love to see this.

:Hermione.:

"Hmmm?" she snuggled closer to him.

"Take a look at this," he murmured, and filled her mind with what he was seeing.

Hermione sighed. It was quite something. "I wish I wasn't so blind."

"We'll get that cure soon enough. Don't worry. When everything is over, I promise I'll take you back here."

Hermione nodded sadly, knowing that it was very unlikely that this would ever happen, but indulging herself in the fantasy anyway. They were pretending that they had all the time in the world and that after everything was over, they could still be together, when the truth was that their time was running out every second.

Draco shifted in his seat so his shoulder wasn't digging into Hermione's head so much. He knew this as well - after everything ended, it was unlikely that they would be together like this, even if Draco didn't go to Azkaban.

Once outside, Draco looked up. It must have been nightfall, and yet it was still light out. It was the one thing he found rather cool about this area - in the summer, it was daylight almost all the time. The cycle was breaking however; soon, days and nights would be in balance once again.

He apparated them downtown, to a street he had apparated to before, what seemed like ages ago. It was a small side street, with muggle construction crews not far away working on the roads.

"Where are we now?" Hermione asked, adjusting Loki in her arms.

"Downtown Anchorage. Compared to London this is a tiny little city," he said quietly, looking around. The transit center was a few blocks away, if he remembered correctly, sitting as a small building fronted with red lined windows and muggles waiting for their appropriate busses.

"So... how are we getting into Canada?"

"It's a long ride by muggle car, down a winding highway. A very scenic route to be sure... right through the mountains. We'll stop in Tok for a day to rest after we get going."

"How many times have you been here?"

Draco shrugged. She was asking a lot of questions again; she had no need to be nervous. He knew this area very well. "More times than I would like to remember... let's go."